Nesting
by Talonwhisker
Summary: Dean asks Castiel about an Angel's sleeping habits. Oneshot, Destiel if you squint. Set somewhere in the earlier Castiel seasons where he is still an angel.


**A/N: A little oneshot I thought of based on a post I saw on Tumblr. I tried to keep everything as in-character that I could, but I realize I probably messed up some stuff. I know I'm not an amazing writer, but I really would appreciate reviews! There might be Destiel if you want it to be, but it doesn't have to. Also, this is all my own thoughts on the subject, and is based randomly somewhere in the show where Cas is still an angel.**

I hope you guys enjoy~!

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"Do angels sleep?" Dean asked suddenly, startling Castiel out of his thoughts that had been created by their earlier comfortable silence. It took him a moment to process the question, and by then he just looked uncomfortable.

"What?" he asked with a blink, head cocking slightly in confusion. He had heard the question clearly, but he was unsure as to why the question came up. Dean gripped his burger tightly in his fingers and took a bite before setting it back down on the table. He and Cas had taken a break in a decent-looking diner on their way home from a hunt. Sam was at Bobby's, sick with a mild stomach-flu, which was why Castiel had come with Dean in the first place.

"I asked, do angels sleep?" Cas grew a bit more uneasy. He didn't really like talking about angel information, even if he did trust Dean. Humans weren't supposed to know of their very _existence _let alone their habits.

"Why do you ask, Dean?" He asked in his normal low, monotone voice. Dean raised a brow, sensing that Cas was trying to get him off track, if only by a bit.

"Because you never seem to, you're always awake and watching over me and Sam. So I was wondering if you were just being creepy-" he held up a finger to stop Castiel from interrupting, "-or if you just don't sleep." Cas gave a slightly disgruntled huff, giving Dean a small glare.

"For the record, I am not _creepy," _he huffed. Then he dropped his gaze and looked at his hands, circling his thumb over his palm slowly as he contemplated his next answer.

"...Angels do, ne- sleep, yes. Although we only need to about once a month, less if we don't have a vessel." at Dean's curious look, Castiel sighed. "It takes a lot of energy to keep ourselves contained into such a small body. Remember, my true form is as large as a skyscraper. We...sleep for our graces to restore themselves; after a while they grow weaker, but a simple sleep is enough for it to 'recharge' as you say. Those with vessels also do it to keep them alive; even vessels need sleep occasionally." Dean opened his mouth to open more questions, but one look at Cas, with his lips tightly pressed and his eyes narrowed, made him stop. He wouldn't get anything else out of the angel, not now at least. He filed away the information for later and stood, pushing his chair away from the red and white checkered table.

"Lets get this show on the road," he said, and Castiel was all too ready to comply.  
_

It was a few weeks later, and Dean was working for Bobby around the house to repay him for looking after Sam. Castiel had been around earlier, but he had been surlier and crabbier than usual. He disappeared at random off and on and had eventually disappeared altogether.

"Go put those boxes up in the attic," Bobby said gruffly, waving a hand at a small stack of boxes near the steps. Deans head snapped up with curiosity. He hadn't been up in the attic since he was about 10, when his father had dumped him on the hunter with Sammy. All to eager to comply so he could see what was up there, he trotted over to the boxes and hoisted them up, wrapping his fingers tightly under the bottom to keep them from sliding. Slowly and carefully he made his way up the steps before setting the boxes down and reaching towards the ceiling where the trapdoor for the attic was.

Yanking down the platform, he carefully eased the ladder down to the ground before scooping up the boxes again and making his way upstairs. Whatever he had expected to see up there, it definitely wasn't what he did see. Instead of the mess of boxes scattered everywhere and dust coating everything as his mind had jumped to, he saw a meticulously cleaned room, a neat stack of boxes and something that shocked him more than anything; he had to stop himself from dropping all the boxes right at that moment.

In the corner was a large, carefully constructed nest made of blankets, clothes, and other soft scraps of cloth. Dean recognized a few of his shirts that had mysteriously gone missing, as well as some of Sams, mixed in with old motel blankets. And inside this nest lay Cas, curled in on himself, asleep.

He was lying in an almost fetal position, his trench coat draped around him tightly. Spreading from his back were his wings, the first time Dean had ever seen more than a shadow of them. They were huge, perhaps a 20 foot wing span, covered entirely in beautiful black feathers. Instead of taking up a large amount of space, they were wrapped tightly around the angel, almost like a cocoon. Emitting from the feather appendages was a dimly pulsating blue light that, when concentrated upon, made a very quiet, musical hum.

Dean considered waking the angel up, but decided against it for a number of reasons. Firstly was because he didn't know how an angel reacted when they were woken up. If they were anything like a human being awoken, he didn't want anything to do with it. Secondly, he knew how much Cas did for him and Sam, how much he worked. He decided that he ultimately deserved rest and a chance to recharge.

Instead, he gently and silently stacked the boxes in the corner and pulled out his phone, unable to resist snapping a picture before sliding it back in his pocket. He just couldn't resist; Castiel looked so calm and gentle while he slept. Dean shut the lights off smoothly and slid down the steps, quietly shutting the trapdoor again. He continued on with the assigned chores and didn't tell anything about the angel in the attic; he deserved his privacy, after all.

_  
It was the three days later when Cas showed up again, looking slightly refreshed and in a considerably better mood. Dean waited until Bobby and Sam were out of the room before turning to the angel, raising a brow slightly.

"So angels nest, huh?" he asked, unable to keep a tinge of amusement out of his tone. Cas stiffened, and if Dean didn't know any better, he would have sworn he blushed. If he didn't know any better.

"Wha- how?" Cas spluttered, eyes uncharacteristically wide. Dean gave him a reassuring grin, shrugging slightly.

"I had to take some boxes to the attic. You were there," he explained, eyes scanning the angel's face for his reaction. Cas grew considerably more and more embarrassed until he looked almost panicked.

"Y-you did? I knew I should have gone somewhere else," he muttered, more to himself than Dean. He could feel his wings instinctively unfurling as he prepared to fly away, but Dean stopped him.

"Relax, Cas. I don't care, I didn't tell anybody." Cas looked at him in surprise, cocking his head slowly to the side.

"Why not? It is uncharacteristic of you not to take advantage of this." Despite the unjudging tone of his words, Dean looked somewhat hurt.

"It's angel business, man. Not my place to share it with anyone." He rubbed a hand slightly uncomfortably in his hair. This was getting way too chick-flick for his comfort. Cas nodded slowly.

"I appreciate it, Dean," Castiel said honestly, smiling slightly. Dean couldn't help his next words.

"I did take a picture though."

"DEAN!"


End file.
